


it smells like infidelity

by Jsscshvlr



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Felicia POV, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Not Harry Osborn friendly, like a tiny amount of death dw about it, no body no crime au, not cop friendly as it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jsscshvlr/pseuds/Jsscshvlr
Summary: “Did you kill her?”“What if I did? You aren’t gonna kill me, Felicia.” He says spitting blood onto the floor.“I wouldn’t. But the Black Cat would.”
Relationships: Felicia Hardy & Michelle Jones, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 25
Kudos: 35





	it smells like infidelity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Machiavelien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machiavelien/gifts).



> for my girl machi, and machi only

Felicia sits in the chair, back straight, eyes falsely wide waiting for the interview to start. She’s been sitting here for forty minutes, and she’s desperately bored but she knows what to do to get out of this. She knows this tactic. Make them sweat. Make them anxious. Make them want to give up. She’s already over the good cop bad cop routine these two knuckleheads have going on and they only entered the room two minutes ago.

Felicia doesn’t like police officers. She doesn’t like what they stand for. She doesn’t like the uniform. She doesn’t like anything about them. Still, she plasters on a smile and shakes their hands. She's got a show to put on.

“Miss Hardy,” one of them stated in an overly deep way, “I can make your life hell. I can make you wish you’d never been born.” He says as though he’s trying to be calm and threatening but she can see the bead of sweat forming on his hairline. She can see the way his knuckles are tensed along the back of the chair. They don’t have shit on her and they know it. They just don’t know that she knows it. 

The tape recorder is clicked, a chair is scraped along the ground and then,

“Miss Hardy, I’m Officer Stark.” His voice is still moderated to be deeper than it is and she barely resists an eye-roll. 

“Where were you on the eighteenth of February between the hours of ten pm and one am?” He asks, tensing his arms on the table in a way she assumes is meant to be subtle but he just ends up looking constipated. Wouldn’t matter to her either way - she doesn’t fuck cops.

“Well, Officer,” she starts, her voice sickly sweet, “I was with my friends at the Olive Garden. All you can eat breadsticks on Tuesday’s.” She should leave it there, don’t give them anything more than the basics but then she has to ask, “How is the investigation going?” She says it softly, so they’ll feel sorry for her. She wouldn’t usually try these tactics with the police because she doesn't want them to think she supports them even slightly - but her best friend is still missing and she hasn’t got a fucking lead. 

“The investigation is ongoing, ma’am,” Stark says, crossing his arms over his chest and tensing so hard his veins are popping on his neck. God, are all men like this?

“I understand.” She replies knowing full well they’ve barely turned a stone while looking for MJ. She shouldn’t care, the police in this town have been useless since day one - it’s why she needs to go out every night. It’s why Peter still puts on his suit. It’s why they do what they can because officers like Stark want to spend two hours of their day interrogating someone they know hasn’t committed a crime - but they need a confession anyway and they’re not bothered about where they got it from. 

They’re wasting their time with Felicia, but she’ll let them figure that out. 

“How was Miss Jones when you last saw her? In a good state of mine?” Stark says, a condescending tone lacing his words. And she tells herself to think before she speaks. To take a deep breath lest she ruin this interview by swinging herself across the table and snapping his neck.

* * *

**_It’s Tuesday night which means Felicia hangs up the gloves for the evening and saunters into Olive Garden to have dinner with her favourite people in the world. Although, if you asked her who she’d kill and in what order she’d tell you. (Peter would go first, Leeds second and she’d spare MJ)._ **

**_The host greets her warmly if not a little too flirtatiously considering she’s here weekly and he’s maybe fifteen max._ **

**_“Hello miss, how are you?”_ **

**_“I’m well, Bobby. How are you?” She says waiting for him to remember she’s here to eat. He’s sweet. Aiming high but she likes enthusiasm._ **

**_“Very well, thank you. This way.” He says attempting to place his hand around her back to guide her. She laughs at him lowly and then loudly when his hand hovers thirty centimetres away. One day she thinks his hands might connect with her coat and she’ll tip him for the audacity._ **

**_Walking up to the booth she sees the shot glasses and bottle of cheap merlot that’s half empty and assumes Harry has been a dick again. Although, Peter looks a little worse for wear so it could be anything. Maybe he didn’t manage to save a kitten today._ **

**_“Ladies.” She says sinking into the cheap leather booth next to MJ and opposite Ned._ **

**_“I just - ugh - I think he’s sleeping with him,” MJ says sadly while downing another shot._ **

**_“Well hello to you too, MJ,” Felicia says but she grabs her hand and downs a shot anyway._ **

**_“Sorry, Leesh.” She replies with a kiss to her cheek._ **

**_Felicia chances a look over to Peter who looks equal parts distraught and murderous. It’s mostly sexy, she decides._ **

**_Felicia doesn’t care for women who let their husbands treat them like shit - but Michelle is like a sister to her and she knows she was in love with him at some point - she’s just impatient waiting for her to figure out she’s not any more or better yet that she deserves better than his entitled ass. If she just needs some tough love and help packing her bags and slashing his tyres, she’s there._ **

**_“She found a watch in the bedside drawer - wrapped like a valentine’s gift,” Peter says with so much guilt in his eyes she’d think he was the bastard adulterer. Michelle would usually call someone out for talking for her, but she lets Peter get away with murder._ **

**_“And then on Valentine’s day she - erm, did not get the watch.” Peter finishes and looks at the table._ **

**_“I did not.”_ **

**_“Did you want a watch?” Ned asks, seemingly unaware that that is not the issue here. He’s been madly and happily in love with Betty for years now so he does not know what infidelity smells like - well good for him. MJ smiles sadly at him._ **

**_“Did you want a watch? I’ll get you a watch if you want.” Peter perks up and Felicia has to resist the urge to kick him in the shin. He’s been in love with Michelle for as long as she can remember - Michelle loves him too. But she’s been married to this piece of shit for so long she can’t seem to remember you don’t have to be miserable all the time just because someone gave you a ring._ **

**_“Em -” Peter starts again, “you don’t have to stay with him. Even if you didn’t think he was cheating on you with Brad… do you love him?” Everyone is taken aback because they’ve been dancing around this question for months. Felicia always assumed it would be her to take the hit and ask._ **

**_“No.” Michelle responds quicker than Felicia is expecting, and follows it up with, “I think I’m gonna call him out.” And fuck yes, Felicia can get on board with that._ **

* * *

“She was perfectly happy when she left dinner. She was going home to discuss their future plans. I don’t -” she bites her lip and looks at Officer Rogers as she forces the tears to fall, “- sorry. This is just so hard.”

“I understand.” He replies and moves his trotter over the table to lightly grasp her hand. She swallows down bile and the smirk that tugs at every muscle in her face because _God_ , they’re easy.

“Did Miss Jones have any enemies?” Rogers asks softly. His hand is sweatier than she anticipated and she grimaces but turns it into a frown as she thinks about his question. Did MJ have enemies? If you’d asked her two weeks ago she would have said the lady from the grocery store because MJ changes her mind from plastic bags to paper bags every time she’s there but doesn’t ask until it’s half packed. Felicia had asked her before if Harry had ever been violent towards her and she’d said no. She knows either her or Peter would have been able to see the signs of physical abuse even if Michelle tried to hide it - but she can’t get over the fact that she should have forced MJ out of that relationship months ago.

“Brad or Harry - maybe both.” She starts, “they were sleeping together and Harry had been careless about it.” She swallows and unintentionally grips onto Rogers's hand as the real emotions shock her. “I think Harry would harm Michelle but I don’t know -” the lie burns at her throat “-I think he did it - but I just can’t prove it.”

* * *

**_“Felicia -” Peter pants through the phone. Is he already Spider-Manning? It’s way too early for her to go join him._ **

**_“No. Whatever it is -”_ **

**_“MJ’s gone.” She sits bolt straight up in bed, ignoring the protests of the woman next to her - or the guy on the other side._ **

**_“What do you mean?”_ **

**_“She’s not at work, Leesh.” Not insane, sure she’s never missed a day but that’s not enough to get worried about. “She’s not anywhere. I’ve looked - Felicia. Her phone is off, the signal dropped somewhere miles from here.” And he sounds so broken and desperate that she knows what he’s thinking before he even says it._ **

**_“I think something happened.” She tiptoes out of her bedroom, wrapping herself in a blanket so she can look at the outside of their house - see if anything looks bizarre. This is the only time she’s ever felt lucky that Harry lives on the opposite side of the street._ **

**_“That fuck.” She seethes down the phone. Seeing Brad walking into her house with boxes._ **

**_“What? Felicia, what?!”_ **

**_“His truck has new tyres.”_ **

**_“Felicia,” Peter says somewhere near a sob._ **

**_“Brad’s moving in - literally right now.”_ **

**_“I’ll kill him.”_ **

**_“No. Peter. Somebody’s gonna catch him out. You look for her. Okay?”_ **

**_“Okay.” She hangs up, shoots Ned a text to call her. Grabs her burner phone and gets to planning._ **

****

* * *

“That’s quite an accusation, Miss Hardy. Especially for someone who’s dead.” Stark almost shouts at her.

“What?” She says, pulling her hand from Rogers and to her chest - squeezing the leftover tears out of her eyes. 

“Mr Osborn was found stabbed to death this morning at five am by someone on the boating lake.” Thanks for the boating license, Pops.

“Oh my, God.” Perfect timing. 

“Where were you between eight pm and two am?” Stark asks, but Felicia knows her skills. She knows her talents. She didn’t fuck this up.

“I was with Leeds. We had a dark comedy night in tribute to -” the choke takes her by surprise. But the way she misses Michelle is visceral. She hasn’t seen Peter since the news of her going missing came out. If she wasn’t so sure of who killed Harry she’d place a large wager on him. She can’t even imagine what’s going through his head right now.

“Mr Leeds can corroborate this story?” 

“I was with him, he’ll swear it.” So will Betty. They’re a good pair.

“So. You seem to be pretty good enemies with Mr Osborn.” Stark says smugly as if she hasn’t given him an alibi. Doesn’t matter. 

“We’re not enemies but we weren’t friends.” She replies, wiping her nose with her hand and then placing it back in Rogers on the table. 

“Did you kill him?”

* * *

**_“Felicia, fuck off,” Harry says sounding more and more terrified as she stalks him down. They’re close to the edge of the forest - just where she wants him. She’s killed before. If she didn’t want his body found, he wouldn’t be found._ **

**_“Where is she?” She spits out, punctuating every word._ **

**_“Who?” He says with a smug grin. She throws a rock at him._ **

**_“Fuck, Felicia. I have a meeting tomorrow.” He says wiping the blood from his brow. She doesn’t miss. She never misses._ **

**_“Don’t make me ask again.”_ **

**_“I don’t know what you mean. She left me, what can I say. Not to be.” She throws another rock at him and barely holds back a smile when his nose cracks._ **

**_“You crazy bitch!”_ **

**_“Did you kill her?”_ **

**_“What if I did? You aren’t gonna kill me, Felicia.” He says spitting blood onto the floor._ **

**_“I wouldn’t. But the Black Cat would.” She says lowly as she slips the coat off and she watches as his eyes try to track her form in the moonlight._ **

**_“I’ll ask you one last time, Osborn. Where is she?” She watches as he tries to figure out if she’s for real. If she’s really the notorious burglar. He’s probably thinking, he’d know right? Nothing gets past him. Not even the fact that his wife was the best thing that ever happened to him. And she happens to have three people who would kill for her._ **

**_“I didn’t kill her.” He says softly, but his eyes turn dangerous as she watches his hand slip to the back of his trousers. Amature._ **

**_“I just shot her and left her in the middle of the woods.” He says like he’s about to do the same to her. Like he isn’t exactly where she wants him._ **

**_In the end, there’s barely a scuffle. She watches his face bulge and sweat as she presses down on his throat. There’s a crack and a squeak and he’s gone. The hardest part is dragging his dead weight to the boat. Or the fact that when his lifeless body floats to the bottom of the lake, it doesn’t bring her friend back._ **

* * *

“No.”

“Anybody else who had any ill will against him?” And here’s where she wins.

“Well -” she clears her throat and moves to lay her forearms on the table, “ - Brad came out of nowhere.” She says eyes flicking between the two officers who perk up at the notion that they might have someone to pin this on. 

“He moved in with Harry days after he reported his wife missing. Does that not sound twisted to you?” She asks with a raise of her eyebrow, watching as the two of them unsubtly look at each other. They literally give anyone a badge, huh? 

“It just sounds like he’s using him. I don’t know though -” she says the next part quietly, looking at Officer Rogers, letting him take her hand again “- I’ve never been in love.” He squeezes her fingers. Bingo. 

“He did just get life insurance.” Rogers attempts to whisper to Stark.

Stark sighs. The tape recorder stops whirring. The chair is lifted from the ground before he stands up to shake her hand.

“Thank you, Miss Hardy. You’re free to go.”

* * *

Felicia leaves the station thankful for Ned Leeds because he’s there in his truck to pick her up. She smiles at him but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Sure, she’d killed him and gotten away with it. It’s possible they were going to go after Brad and he may or may not go to jail and she couldn’t give a fuck either way. 

Nothing matters anyway, Michelle is still dead. 

She opens the front door of Ned’s truck, slips in silently and he doesn’t question her when she quietly cries into the sleeve of her jacket. She thanks him silently when he hands her tissues without looking at her. She pulls up her phone and stares at photos of her and Michelle from a few weeks ago. 

Her chest has been heavy for weeks. Her eyes feel like they are permanently full of sand. The way she misses her is visceral. She misses Peter as well - he’s been near on radio silent for weeks. There’s no way he’s dead. There's also no way he’s coming back without Michelle - even if she is. 

Felicia doesn’t notice when they make a strange turning. She doesn’t notice when they’re driving away from town. She doesn’t notice the happy playlist Ned puts on the radio. She doesn’t notice when the backseat light comes on. She doesn’t notice the two bodies hidden behind the back seats. 

She does scream when they pop up to surprise her and she turns to face Peter and MJ, both very happy, very much alive and definitely holding hands.

“What the fuck?!”

“Miss me?”

**Author's Note:**

> don't look at me thanks bye 
> 
> come say hi on tumblr: i-lovethatforme


End file.
